


The Misadventures of the –SQUIRREL – Dog Avenger

by Winterstar



Series: Dog Avenger! [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Up (2009)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, dog worries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avengers, Stony, Up mash up. Steve gets Tony a dog, Tony doesn’t know what to do with said dog. Tony invents a dog collar that will allow the dog to speak. Is this good, is this bad for our trusty Avengers? Only time - SQUIRREL — will tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Misadventures of the –SQUIRREL – Dog Avenger

“What is that?”

“A dog.”

Tony rolls his eyes and lifts a brow. “I know it’s a dog, what is it doing in the middle of the penthouse living room?”

Steve presses his lips together in that adorable smile he always gives Tony because he knows that Tony cannot resist said smile. He knows Tony falls for it every fucking time. So, he does it and (Tony thinks) might even bat his long lashes, but maybe that was something in his eye. “I thought it would be a nice addition to our family.”

Tony gags. “Family?”

“Yes, me and you.”

“Do not tell me you are naming it Blue?”

Steve frowns and glances at the dog – who happens to be some kind of weird ass mix breed of maybe Golden Retriever and Carolina Dog or even fat dog – if that’s a breed, because that dog is fat. “He’s yellow.”

Tony shivers over the incomprehensibility of modern life with a fossil from the forties, a fossil he admittedly loves to pieces, but is confounded by in every way to Sunday on a regular basis. “Forget it.”

“That was a modern reference again, wasn’t it?” Steve says as he stands up and crosses the room. 

He finally gives Tony his greeting kiss. Tony deserves a kiss of greeting; he’s been out of town for Stark Industries for the last three days. On a scale of one to ten with ten being the best, the kiss ranks at the low end and Tony’s being generous. Steve’s head obviously has other things tugging at it, along with his pants’ leg.

“What’s it doing now?” Tony glares at the dog. From his understanding when encountering a dog, one has to ensure that the dog gets that it is lower in the pack. That thing that is vying for mop head status is going to be omega and much lower in any pack than Tony will ever be.

Steve looks down at the creature and smiles. Yes, that adorable, silly, dork-like smile he possesses which is the reason Tony’s heart melts far too much. It is also the reason Tony sits through inane kids’ movies as Steve catches up on modern day references through theatrical experiences. As Steve peers up at Tony, Tony can only note how very similar his earnest expression looks as compared to the dogs.

“I think he wants to go out,” Steve says and crosses his arms over his chest. Tony likes it when he does that, because can anyone say BICEPS! 

Sometimes, Tony feels like a dirty old man.

“I can’t be sure; I never had a dog when I was a kid. Couldn’t afford to feed ourselves, a dog would have been a luxury.” Steve shrugs and meets Tony’s gaze. 

The way he just throws around how very poor he was strikes Tony dead center in his arc reactor. He thinks it might even sputter a little bit in response. “Okay, okay, you can keep it.”

“He, Tony, the dog is a he.”

“Him, whatever, just don’t let it poop on my couch,” Tony says and walks toward the bar. He thinks he should have a drink. Everyone should have a drink to celebrate coming home from three days of business hell to a beautiful face and a walking rug. 

As Tony pours himself two fingers of Scotch, he watches as Steve waves the dog to follow. “What do you want to name him?”

“Name, doesn’t it already have something?” Tony frowns and decides three fingers is a better idea. It doesn’t seem like he’s getting sex anytime soon from super boyfriend over here.

Steve grouches at Tony. “He’s from the military working dogs.”

Tony lets out a yelp of surprise much to Steve’s chagrin. “No, seriously, he was a military working dog?” 

“Yes,” Steve says. “I adopted him from the site to rescue old military working dogs.”

Tony shakes his head and feels like his eyebrows have disappeared into his hair line at the surprise and disbelief. “He was a reject.”

Steve covers the dog’s ears. “He was not, he had a long service.”

“How long?”

“I don-.”

“Captain America, how long?”

Steve drops his hands from the dog’s ears and straightens up. “Three months.”

“Drop out.”

“Tony,” Steve says and, there it is, the hurt puppy face – and not on the dog. 

“Well, I’m only calling it like it is, sweetheart, but if he didn’t drop out, then he would have never come to us,” Tony says. “Think of the joy we would have missed.” Under his breath he murmurs _not_.

“He’s a good dog, though, his handler really said he only had a few little quirks.”

“A few like what? He likes to drink out of the toilet?” Tony says and swigs back some of his drink. Why isn’t he in bed right now having kinky funky sex with his hot muscly boyfriend? Oh yes, hot muscly boyfriend is too busy being a mother hen to a freaking dog. 

“He had a tendency to -.” Tony doesn’t catch the whole sentence because Steve mumbles half of it. 

“What?” He bends toward Steve to hear him better.

“He had a tendency to bark during inopportune times.”

“Like during an important briefing?” Tony asks, because he doesn’t think any briefing is important enough to not bark through. If that’s the answer the dog can stay and any time Fury calls them in for a meeting, he’s bringing the dog.

“No,” Steve says and looks everywhere but at Tony.

“Captain?” It always works, calling out the Captain to make Steve tell the truth.

“I don’t appreciate that,” Steve says and folds his arms, but he admits to the truth, nonetheless. “He barks during covert operations.”

“Covert operations, so he’s a liability?”

“We won’t bring him on ops, Tony, he’s a house dog now.”

“Who’s just peed on the middle of a thousand dollar area rug,” Tony says and huffs his disapproval.

“Oh, gosh,” Steve says and turns to glance at Tony and then the dog. “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up. It’s my fault. He needed to go out.”

“How old is he?”

“About nine months?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Tony says as he trails after Steve who’s gone to the kitchen to retrieve cleaning supplies to sop up the urine. 

“Nine months, and his name is Doug.”

“Douglas?”

“No,” Steve says and pulls out of the cabinet with a roll of paper towels and a spray cleaner. “D-U-G like in dig, dug.”

“That’s weird,” Tony says and follows Steve back to the living room area of the penthouse. Steve gets on his hands and knees to blot out the pee. 

“It’s because he likes to dig holes. They nicknamed him Dug.” 

“Great name,” Tony says. “I think we should keep it.”

“Ya think?” Steve smiles. “You’ll keep him with me?” 

Tony really should call in a psychologist or someone to do some kind of mind whammy on him, maybe even Loki with the glow stick of destiny. Because someone, somewhere has to have the cure or some kind of defense against that completely adorable Steve face. Right now, Tony is defenseless and he caves.

“Yes.”

At least he gets a really good kiss out of it.

Later that evening he learns that a dog can be very disruptive of having his sausage wrapped. It takes quite a bit of haranguing to get the dog to leave them alone when they are in bed, it takes Tony nearly crushing Steve’s feelings the next day when he insists they get a crate to put the dog in during their after-hours activities, because – damn it – he is not going to be monk just so they can have a dog.

Steve agrees after Dug decides to get in on the action and keeps licking their feet while they try to relax with one another. Dug gets consigned to another room in the penthouse when Steve and Tony enjoy any afternoon, morning, mid-morning, evening, later in the evening, or even late night delights. 

Over the course of the next week, any time Tony wants to find Steve, he just has to hunt down the damned dog. JARVIS likes to give Tony clues but not tell him directly where or what Steve is doing with the mutt. Tony walks in on Steve in Dug’s room working with him to sit and stay.

Dug thinks this means to jump all over Steve.

“That doesn’t seem to be working,” Tony says and crosses his arms as he watches Steve valiantly try to claim victory over the four legged creature. “I think he’s an idiot.”

“He just doesn’t understand. I’m speaking an entirely different language to him.” Steve clicks a little plastic device in his hand which Dug seems to think means he gets to nuzzle at Steve’s other hand. “No, Dug. Sit.”

Dug happily pants at him and roams around behind Steve to find his hand with the treats.

“That’s going well,” Tony says. 

“I read the book, and I got Cesar Milan’s DVDs.” 

“JARVIS?”

“Cesar Milan is a world renowned dog trainer, often called the dog whisperer-.”

“Stop, no more,” Tony says. “Fury wants to see you. Seems you missed a meeting today. He thinks you might have been abducted by aliens or, at the very least are under the influence of aliens.” He points to the dog. “Might be. But he wants to see you pronto.”

“Can you,” Steve says and looks at the dog.

“Oh no, I am not watching that beast. It’s bad enough I have to share the couch with him to sit next to you at night. I am not watching him.”

“Please, Tony, he’s really at a crucial stage of his development. He’s very vulnerable to anxiety.”

“Anxiety?” Tony says. “Maybe he needs Prozac.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Steve says and hands the treats and clicker to Tony. He kisses Tony’s cheek and whispers, “I’ll make it worth it, later.”

Tony agrees.

Which is what gets him in trouble.

He should stop following his libido in all things and important decisions in his life.

Really.

Eventually he finds his way down to his workshop with the dorky dog following him. Tony tries to get Dummy to play with the dog but the stupid thing (and he’s talking about the dog, not his superior and very intelligent first generation robot) keeps whining at the thing and racing away with his tail between his legs.

Tony only rolls his eyes and goes back to work. He tells Dummy to watch Dug but Dummy cranks away to the corner. Insubordination is a think around here, apparently. 

After a few hours of senseless oblivion as he works at his newest designs for the suit, he feels something scraping at his leg. He flicks it off and continues his work. Again, a slight patting of his leg. He glances down and sees Dug sitting primly but with his paw raised as if asking for something.

“What? You gotta go pee or something? Are you hungry? What?”

Dug sits stupidly staring at him.

“This is why I like robots; they don’t piss or poop or eat. I don’t need to worry about bodily excretions or other pesky things like food.”

“Perhaps, sir, Dug would like some water since he’s devoured your couch.”

“What? Shit, JARVIS, why didn’t you say something?” The couch is shredded on the arm and the seat cushions. 

“You told Dummy last week that if he was to set anything on fire in the lab to please make sure it included the couch since you needed to rid yourself of its existence, sir. I figured it was the perfect chew toy, and it kept Dug busy for some time.”

Tony wonders if JARVIS instructed Dug to eat the couch. He doesn’t state it but he has his doubts. “You want some water?”

Dug just sits there looking like a reject from good dog land. Tony sighs and gets him a bowl of water which is really a hubcap with some bottled water poured into it. Dug laps it up. 

“Good dog.”

Dug wags his tail. That makes Tony feel good. He doesn’t like it. “Well, I guess I have to keep you so I keep getting laid.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “But how do I make this situation better?” 

He should have never asked that question.

Because he was bound to answer it.

And not in ways Steve would like.

It takes a little tweeking of the situation; some of his technology doesn’t exactly fit with what he has in mind. He’s not even sure he completely gets what’s going on in his brain. JARVIS has to stop him sometime in the next few hours to take Dug for his walk and to feed the beast. By the time Steve comes home, Dug is curled up on the remnants of the couch and Tony is deeply enmeshed in his newest creation. Steve kisses him on the cheek and goes to bed.

Tony gives up sex for this invention.

It is that good.

Or that bad.

This is definitely under debate – later.

Steve has to go on a mission. He disappears late the next day after he’s ravaged Tony in the workshop and tells him to please feed and take care of Dug. Tony promises and waves him off. If things go well, then he expects to have a big surprise ready for Steve by the time he comes back.

Things go extremely well.

He had all the technology already – he just had to make a few leaps in logic. There’s a one time at about 3:45 am three days after Steve leaves that he’s fairly certain he might have shocked the shit out of the dog (well he actually did take a dump in the middle of the lab but Tony’s certain that is because he forgot to take him out). It works though, it really works and he’s positively thrilled by the result.

If he wasn’t already a billionaire, well, he would be one now. He dances around the lab with Dug and he makes Dug promise not to tell Steve that he hasn’t eaten in three days or slept in as many.

Things are even more wonderful because Steve comes home without a scratch on him. Tony gestures for Dug to not let out their little secret.

“Steve!” 

Steve walks into the workshop. He’s in his civies and looks delicious enough to eat, but Tony cannot wait to show off his newest design, his newest invention. He’s so brilliant, he sometimes blinds even himself.

Steve leans in for a kiss and Tony pecks his cheek and says, “Let’s take Dug for a walk.”

“Oh, I- okay?” Steve says and follows as Tony clicks the leash on the collar. “You got Dug a new collar.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Tony says and waves for Steve to step to it. “Daylight’s burning.”

“It’s only ten o’clock in the morning, Tony, I should really shower and, you know, go to bed,” he says and points to the lift as if it is their bedroom. He kinds of winks at Tony –which is too cute for words, but Tony is having none of it – not yet anyway. He has a surprise!

“Come on then, Dug needs to go out for his walkies.”

“Walkies?” Steve says and looks around as if he’s seeking out the source of Tony’s joviality. “Did something happen while I was gone Tony?”

“Yes, or no, nothing, nothing at all,” Tony says and waves them to the elevator. 

“Are you sure?” Steve says and as the elevator closes he looks up. “JARVIS.”

“JARVIS,” Tony says but sees Steve glaring at him. “JARVIS is going to report how Dug ate my couch and I didn’t even kill him.”

“What?” Steve says. “JARVIS, did Dug eat the couch.”

“Yes he did, Captain Rogers, and, as is plainly obvious, sir, did not kill Dug.”

“Well, congratulations?” Steve says and the doors open on street level. 

Tony ushers them out through the lobby toward the doors. There are several guards who try to follow but Tony glowers at them. For God’s sake he has Captain America and a dog with him. They make their way down toward the park and Dug is waving his bushy tail like he’s just entered Disney World. 

“You want to try off leash?” Tony says.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Steve says as they round the path. 

“Dug, what do you think, want to try off leash?” Tony lifts his chin at the dog.

Dug turns around and looks at him. “Oh please please please? Can I? Can I?”

Steve’s eyes look like they are glued open, and his mouth forms a perfect o. He stands stock still for several minutes while Tony calls his name. 

“What?” He coughs once and looks at Tony. “What did you do?”

“I luv you.”

Steve steps away from Dug.

“You are my master and I luv you.”

“Hmm, no, what the hell did you do to my dog?” Steve sidles toward a garbage can as if he might put it between the dog and himself. 

Tony lifts a shoulder and points to the collar. “I thought it might be nice to figure out what the dog wanted. So he won’t eat my couch anymore.”

Dug walks up to Tony, pants, and raises his paw. “Sooorryy. It-it was nnnn-ot tasty.”

“A little buggy still, I have to work on the vocalization.” 

“Work on the what?” Steve clutches the garbage can as if he’s missing his shield. 

“The pronunciation and vocalization programs still have to sync correctly. It’s a little buggy.” He gets down on one knee and flicks a switch on the collar. Dug starts speaking in different languages.

“Geez o pete, he speaks German, and Italian, and Russian.”

“He speaks twenty seven languages.” Tony stands up and smiles at Steve.

Steve presses his fingers into his eyes. “You made my dog talk.”

“I made our dog talk.” Tony coughs.

Steve drops his hands and looks between the two of them and then says, “How?”

“It wasn’t that hard. I already have the mind interface with the computer thing worked out; I had to embed some relays.”

“Embed?”

“Implant really to transfer the data to the collar.”

“You implanted my dog with stuff that runs on electricity?”

“Well, yes, of course, how else would it run? But don’t worry the collar has a little arc reactor in it. Should do well for about a year,” Tony says and pets Dug’s head.

“Arc reactor, my dog? You made my dog talk?”

“Well really it wasn’t that hard, dogs make like ten different noises, while cats make like thousands. Dogs are fairly easy; cats are fascinating but so much more difficult.” 

“Cats can’t be trusted,” Steve says.

“That’s discriminatory.”

“What?” Steve says and he literally looks like he might cry. 

He’s pushed Captain America to the edge of nearly crying in public. He thinks he might have done a bad thing. He can never figure out what is bad and what is good. Even Pepper was an enigma. 

“He couldn’t be just a dog? Not just a dog?” Steve makes little whimpering noises.

“He’s still a dog.”

“From the 21st century. Like a robot, like everything here.”

“Yes,” Tony says and he knows, knows down deep he’s screwed up. “This makes things easier, honey bunny,” Tony says. He points to Dug. “Look at how much he loves you.”

With his head down, Dug slinks over to Steve. He tucks his tail between his legs. 

Steve lowers his head and Dug looks pathetic. When dogs look pathetic they can rule the world. “Dug?”

Dug straightens and perks his ears.

“Dug, is that still you?”

“I luv you, when I first met you I luved you. I luv you.” Dug jumps up and pants at Steve as he bends over to ruffle Dug’s fur. “Luv you, luv you.”

“I love you, too, Dug.” Steve looks up at Tony and – there it is – his whole reward (well not really because he expects a helluva lot more tonight in bed) – that wonderful smile topped off with those baby blues. “Thanks, Tony.”

“It was my pleasure, babe,” Tony says. 

Dug bounces around them both, wagging his entire body. “Can I, can I? Can I?” He zips to and from them both and Tony pulls out the ball from his pocket. 

“Wanna play catch?”

“Oh, oh, I do, I do, I –SQUIRREL-do.”

Steve looks to where Dug faced and frowns.

“He seems to have a little tic when it comes to squirrels, ignore it,” Tony says. “Let’s play ball, my boys.”

When they get home it is lunch time and Tony realizes the reason dogs cannot talk is because if they could talk, they will talk all the time, and mainly about three subjects food, playing, and luv. Steve is bleary-eyed by the time they shut Dug in his little room and they find their way to their own room.

After all Tony hasn’t seen Steve in days and he just did invent the most marvelous gift in the freaking world. He deserves to get his beef a little wet. Or a lot. Whichever.

Except right in the middle of warming things up, they hear a distinctive squeal and then a cry for help.

Steve scrambles to zip up his khakis as Tony yanks up his boxers, leaving his pants behind as they rush down the hall toward Dug’s room.

Dug stands at attention and when they enter, flips about and yells, “Point!”

“What the hell is that thing?” Clint is stuck up near the ventilation duct, cowering in the corner. 

“It’s a dog, Clint,” Steve says and pets Dug’s head. 

“It’s the devil, it’s possessed. Have we looked into whether or not Loki can do spells from prison because that thing can talk.”

“Sure he can,” Tony smirks. “I did that.”

“You did what?”

“Made him talk,” Tony says. “Get down, Clint, he isn’t going to hurt you, and why the hell are you in his bedroom anyway.”

“What? The dog has a room and I don’t?” Clint creeps down the side of the wall, and then jumps down to land precisely on his feet. 

“The dog gets a room because we adopted him, we are not adopting you,” Tony says. 

“What the hell are we going to do with a dog? We’re Avengers, not veterinarians.” 

“This isn’t Avengers’ business,” Tony says.

“Avengers?” Dug bops up and down. “Can I? Can I? Can I be an Avenger? Oh please.” He goes over to Clint sniffs him and says, “I just met you and I luv you.”

“Geez,” Clint says and flaps his hand at the dog as he paws at the archer. 

“I don’t know-.” Steve says.

“Hey, why not?” Tony says. “Sure, Dug, you can be the first Dog Avenger!”

“We can get him a costume, like underdog,” Clint says and claps his hands. Dug circles them and pants and says how much he luvs everyone.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Tony notices Steve frowning. “What, beloved, what’s up?”

“He flunked out of military dog school, Tony. I just don-.”

“We can train him,” Tony says and casts off Steve’s concerns. “Besides, if he’s bad we’ll make him wear the Cone of Shame.”

Steve looks doubtful, but Tony knows that doubt, knows he’s won, because, Tony luvs Steve and Steve luvs Tony.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. 
> 
> More craziness, updates on my stories - [my tumblr](http://winterstar95.tumblr.com)
> 
> Updates on me and my stories - find me on [livejournal](http://winterstar95.livejournal.com)


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